I don’t know when it started happening, but I think it was sometime around when we took you for your first haircut. As you sat in the chair and I watched your soft baby-curls fall to the floor, I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat that had risen up unexpectedly. It’s just hair, I told myself. And it was, of course. But it was also a symbol, a metaphor; my baby was … Read the rest
Last week, my son was sick. Between the stomach virus and the ear infection, he was not a happy camper, and sleep was hard to come by in our house. Whether it was his fever or aches, the coughing or goopy eyes, he woke up consistently every one to two hours, for three or four nights straight. On top of that, my husband had just had his wisdom teeth removed, and the pain combined with … Read the rest
My mother was my first country,
the first place I ever lived.
Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and, like most of us, I’ve got some feelings about it.
It’s a day some people love and other people would rather skip over. A lot of us, I suspect, are caught somewhere in the in-between. Sometimes, it brings up painful memories surrounding our own mothers, or how we have mothered our children. Sometimes, it reminds … Read the rest
It’s that time of year again.
We’re just a few days away from January and new year’s resolutions and fresh starts, so naturally I’ve started thinking about #OneWord365 and what word I’m going to lean into in 2018. Some years, I choose the word with intentionality, a specific goal in mind. Other years, the word chooses me. It comes to me unexpectedly–the first thought upon waking in the morning or washing breakfast dishes or, … Read the rest
If you have been following this blog or any of my social media accounts in the last few months, you’ll have read a few posts about J, my heart-daughter, whom we are in the process of adopting. When we set out on this journey, we knew it would be strenuous one. The process is long, and the emotional roller-coaster that everyone said we’d find ourselves on is furious; the highs are high, and the … Read the rest
Somebody that I used to know recently unfriended me on Facebook. And Twitter. And Instagram. Oh, and blocked me.
Her reasoning was that she felt like she didn’t know who I was anymore and no longer recognized me in posts I have made. Fair enough. I could agree (to a certain extent). I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve gotten a bit of a reputation in recent days for not shying away from talking … Read the rest
Today you are one, my sweet little mockingbird, and I can scarcely believe it. I went through photos this morning from your first week with us on earth, and my eyes got wet as I marveled at how small and squishy you once were.
Right now, I’m watching you crawl around the living room, tearing things up at a turbo-speed, stopping along the way to pick up this toy or that book or see … Read the rest
Alternative title: So, I Have Some Thoughts About Church.
Or: It’s Good to Reflect On Our Faith.
Or: I Think Sarah Bessey Might Have Written a Book Just For Me.
When I was six years old, I found God. Or rather, God found me.
I grew up Catholic, not in practice, necessarily, but definitely in name. The daughter of two immigrants, I was enrolled in Catholic school because religion was a tie to the … Read the rest
I finally get to share my secret with you!!!!
* excessive use of exclamation points due to a) giddy excitement and b) being up since 3:30 with my little which means c) alllll the coffee this morning
Are you ready?!?
On Monday, I got an email from the Editorial Manager at Mops International letting me know an article of mine has been selected to be published on their blog for their current theme, CHANGE.
I … Read the rest
My mother’s father was a short, stubborn Scotsman with eyes so icy-blue they’d make you think of glaciers, or perhaps maybe the moon. His name was James. To most, he was Jimmy. To me, he was Papa.
Whenever I reflect on my childhood–long, harrowing years of growing up in chaos, the daughter of two addicts–Papa is the only constant I can remember. He picked me up from school when my parents were late. … Read the rest